She Smelled of Early Spring
by Yukitarina
Summary: Once upon a time in the late winter. Dégel and Seraphina.


A/N: A romance about Dégel and Seraphina… Yeah…I make a fic about them again… If you don't like it don't read it please :)

Disclaimer: I don't own them

Listening to: Voice of Compassion

**-00-**

**She Smelled of Early Spring**

Yukitarina Furisu

**-00—**

In the early spring the trees were such a wool thread of white, yellow, and green. A royal carriage pulled by four horses ran steadily on the path covered by the last thin quilt of snow, bringing a princess and her loyal assistance from Petersburg to Bluegraad.

Inside the carriage was a fairly large compartment, in which the princess sat on the comfortable velvet red seat with her companion. Or almost, considering the fact that they were separated by a meter distance.

She watched him preparing some Russian deli for dinner. This is the thrice he occupied himself to give a food-service. She smiled as he handed the plate with jam and honey-covered _bliny_. "Thank you," she said. He replied her with slight smile, and as she ate earnestly, he put on his glasses and continued reading. But when she didn't aware, he occasionally gazed at her for an unclear reason, and little did he know she often did the same.

Finally their eyes met. Since she never dropped the gaze, he once again smiled slightly and asked, "What is it, Your Highness?"

"Call me Seraphina, please," she said.

"Alright…," he murmured slowly as he put off his glasses. "What is it, Lady Seraphina?"

She gave him a sad smile and continued eating, now with reluctance.

"Did I make mistake?" he asked, so quiet she slowly stopped eating and looked at him again.

"No…," she answered, though judging from her tone she implied 'yes'. "It's just," she set the half-full plate aside, then elegantly folded her napkin into its original form. "You bothered to leave Sanctuary and pick me up from Petersburg to head to Bluegraad, yet from the time we left until now we haven't spoke much…," she trailed off.

"You wished me to?" he asked, with the hint of slight wonder.

Seraphina shook her head in slight amusement. "Dégel…"

"You're a princess," he suddenly said, caused her raising her eyebrows. "So?"

"I'm a knight," he went on, gazing outside for a while before looking at her again, quite warm. "A knight does nothing but serving a princess, doesn't he…? I pick you from Petersburg to do my duty as a subordinate."

She drowned in sadness once more.

"You're different," she murmured then.

"Excuse me?"

"Not a boy I used to know. Years ago you called me without that awkward 'Lady', and you…," she didn't continue.

Dégel asked quietly after minutes. "What is precisely the thing you want me to do…Lady Seraphina? I'll do it immediately."

"You won't," she whispered and studied his countenance. The perfect symmetry of his face, the excellence of his eyes, the good shape of his lips.

Then suddenly, slowly she took his hand and held it tight, never let it go.

Without having any courage to look at Dégel's reaction, she leant on the carriage window next to her, then closed her eyes to sleep.

**-00-**

_What is this …? So she wants me to hold her hand?_

Dégel surely had had the experience of reading those terrible and difficult books with thousand pages, and he never found anything whose difficulties surpassed them, except one.

Woman.

In his case, a certain woman. _This _woman.

Dégel gazed on the well-treat soft hand enveloping his. It felt warm, as if winter had totally vanished and the sun transmitted its tenderness to it.

He didn't intend to be rude, and he didn't want to get himself closer to her—she was out of reach, and somehow he thought that approaching her only widened the distance between them.

But he couldn't help to rest his palm on the back of her hand.

Outside was the sound of such melodious fountain he thought of the purest tone of some instrument. Then he gazed at her again, still amazed on how the softness of her expression, the beauty of her eyes, and the stream of her hair moved his heart.

He blinked. Was it just his eyes or he saw Seraphina smiled briefly in her sleep?

The twilight turned into night. The carriage severally passed towns, cities, and village. Mostly Dégel stared outside, on taiga forest or palace-like building or some pedestrian with their _boyar_ hats. His heart told him to keep gazing at the woman beside him, but his brain forbade.

_You're a knight. She's a princess._

The carriage turned to an awful wobbly and stony path as the midnight came. Dégel turned to look at her, whose head often bounced against the carriage window like a bounce-ball hitting a wall. He hesitated for a while, then tried to wake her up very softly.

"Lady Seraphina?" he called. She didn't wake up—and she wouldn't, judging from the serenity and stillness on her countenance.

He inhaled a deep breath as he prepared himself to set her head away from the window. Gently he cupped her cheeks and moved them into a better position. But at the same moment suddenly the carriage shook roughly, and Seraphina's head immediately fell on Dégel's shoulder.

When the carriage turned normal Dégel was supposed to move away from her.

But he didn't…

His eyes dimmed as he looked at the trees silhouettes which running outside, a flash of shadows and silver moonlight. His chin was on Seraphina's hair, which smelled of early spring.

She smelled of early spring…with the filigree of warmth that reminded him of certain dream…

He closed his eyes, focusing on the warm cheeks resting on his shoulder.

_She's a princess. You're a knight. She's a princess._

This time, when he fell asleep and laid his cheek on her hair, the voices came from his brain were totally ignored. The voices from his heart won.

_So what…?_

_I love this princess…_

**-00-**

Seraphina woke up in confusion.

She remembered she laid her head on the window. She remembered the rough embossed bronze art nouveau carved on its sills.

But why was her head on his shoulder now…?

Whatever it was, she realized she didn't want to stay away. So she sat still, with her head kept attached on his arms. She looked up, gazing at his closed eyes and the symmetry of his face, the good shape of his lips, the fragrance of late winter coming from his hands.

He smelled of late winter…with the filigree of cool breeze that reminded her of certain castle…

She closed her eyes again, smiling. Dégel always bothered about she was a princess and he was only a knight. He needed to revise his sentence: he was a knight and she was _only_ a princess. Only an ordinary young woman who longed for laughter of friendliness, of a nice walk in taiga forest, of learning some lines from constellation book or poems…

…from this unreachable Aquarius knight.

**-00-**

Even with half-opened eyes, Dégel knew it had been around nine or ten a.m. He was an acute insomniac—thanks to those irksome books—and the fact that he could sleep that long was a bit awkward.

But the fact that his head rested on Seraphina's shoulder was even more stunning.

Knowing this, he became fully awake and immediately moved away.

"Your Highness," he said remorsefully as he saw her smiling at him. "Forgive me, I—"

He couldn't make any word. Didn't what? Didn't mean to be rude? Didn't mean to be a bad knight or something like that? Didn't mean to wake up and found his head lying on her arms?

"Don't worry too much," she said quietly. "You didn't do anything rude. Here."

Dégel's expression blanked as Seraphina handed him a plate of pancake.

"Please eat this," she slightly begged. "You haven't ate for…I don't know, 24 hours?"

"You made this for me?"

"Yes, and don't say anything ridiculous about you're a knight and I'm a princess. I won't accept it."

For Dégel it was an order. And Dégel was always obliged to obey an order, so he quietly took the plate and started to eat. Was it just his sense or the fruit syrup on the pancake tasted better than ever…?

When he finished eating the stillness went on. Again a meter-distance set them apart, and none a single thing they did except staring outside, pretended to be interested in flying birds, icy rivers, and the ribbon of small paths. It was still six hours before they could reach Bluegraad. They wondered whether they would keep being mute as sculptures.

He blinked as something warm grasped his hand, but he didn't have to turn to know it was Seraphina's hand.

They held hands, which spoke more than thousand words could do. Maybe there was magic, maybe because the road was too rocky that their position shifted, but by afternoon they were only separated by short-distance, and both Dégel and Seraphina could see each other's eyes so clearly it was gem.

"You're a princess," he reminded her, and himself, again.

"And you're a knight," she continued.

Suddenly, as if time flew back to the previous day, the carriage jolted very roughly that Seraphina's head fell into Dégel's arms again.

…

She was supposed to move away. He was supposed to let go.

But they didn't…

Again he put his chin on her hair, watching the spots of snow melting under the sunshower. He closed his eyes as he smelled the fragrance of early spring.

"Tell me, Dégel," she spoke softly on his shoulder. "Does the carriage need to jolt forever to ensure you to be closer…?"

He smiled slightly, and though he couldn't see her visage, he knew she did the same.

The carriage kept going. He did nothing but holding her, she did nothing but lying on his arms. The irritating voices came again, but now it got dim and dimmer it sounded like thin hum.

_She's a princess…I'm a knight._

_So what…?_

_She's all I've ever loved…_

**End**

**-00-**


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